SLIGHTLY APHRODITE - My Review of SHE'S FUNNY THAT WAY (2 Stars) Peter Bogdanovich directed my favorite movie of all time, PAPER MOON, as well as the indelible classics, THE LAST PICTURE SHOW and WHAT'S UP DOC? He's made pretty good movies as well (MASK, THEY ALL LAUGHED, THE CAT'S MEOW) and some absolute lousy ones (DAISY MILLER, TEXASVILLE, and ILLEGALLY YOURS) but three great movies in a career that has spanned 6 decades still merits attention. When I learned that Bogdanovich co-wrote the script to SHE'S FUNNY THAT WAY with his then-wife, Louise Stratten, almost 15 years ago, I sensed a long-simmering passion project and couldn't wait to see the results. Clearly positioned as an homage to Preston Sturges' screwball comedies such as HOTEL HAYWIRE and Woody Allen's all-white-all-the-time minor Manhattan-set comedies of manners, SHE'S FUNNY THAT WAY is a loving reminder of films from another time and place, yet it fails utterly with one poor casting choice and a not-quite-funny enough script. Small pleasures are still to be had, but the sense of retread begins right away with Irving Berlin's CHEEK TO CHEEK playing over the opening credits and an old-fashioned title card typical of the silent era. Imogen Poots plays Izzy, a former prostitute turned famous actor, who recounts her journey to a cynical reporter, Ileana Douglas. Told in flashback, Izzy's dreamlike rise to success plays out in true screwball fashion with secrets piled upon secrets, astounding coincidences, and a strong, driving pace. Owen Wilson plays Arnold Albertson, a Broadway director who orders Izzy up to his hotel room via a "Call Girl Service" run by Debi Mazar. I put that in quotes for emphasis, since the anachronism of using the term "Call Girl" is just one of the many dated elements, intentional or not, here. Wilson's first big scene, where he's juggling one phone call with Mazar and another with his wife (a hilarious Kathryn Hahn) is an example of how a delicate soufflé such of this can deflate with the wrong actor. Wilson lacks the zippy timing needed to pull this off, relying on his usual stoned-out, California surfer vibe to navigate a comedy style which would have been better served by someone like George Clooney. Poots, on the other hand, despite putting on a way-too-cartoonish Brooklyn accent, is a charming lead, the ray of light in a sea of insane characters. Her performance, down to the profession, echoes Mira Sorvino's Oscar-winning turn in Woody Allen's MIGHTY APHRODITE, but the verve and snap don't reach those levels. Rhys Ifans as the star of the play Wilson's directing, becomes an important character when he spies Wilson kissing Poots. Long carrying a torch for Wilson's wife, Ifans keeps the dramatic engine churning, and clearly he's having a good time. Also in fine form is Jennifer Aniston, as the world's worst therapist (ok...she's a close second to her former FRIENDS co-star, Lisa Kudrow's brilliant portrayal of Fiona Wallace in the unjustly cancelled WEB THERAPY). Aniston seems to be connected to so many characters here and seemingly has time for none of them, considering her dismissive attitude, aggressive control of any situation, and shattering snap judgements she inflicts on anyone unlucky enough to get in her way. I loved every second of her performance and felt she could have/should have taught Wilson a thing or two. Always loyal to his past colleagues, Bogdanovich lets none of than Tatum O'Neal, Austin Pendleton and Cybill Shepherd pop in with cameos, along with Quentin Tarantino, Tovah Feldshuh and many more. This is old school comedy with such an old school mentality, you wonder if Bogdanovich insisted everyone use land lines on purpose or if he forgot to update his script. The farcical elements are all here and they pile up in clever fashion, but when all is said and done, it feels like an exercise or an homage and not an inspired piece in its own right. It's breezy, sweet yet forgettable, and when you've achieved greatness before, a throwaway good time just isn't enough.